Choose Your Side
by Andrew Fisher15
Summary: Choose your side. Vampire, or lycan. Their is a human side as well. Guardians. Whenever a vampire or lycan grows muderous towards people, the Guardians hunt them down and kill them. What if they saw the shootout at the subway, and went to protect Michael?
1. So it begins

The characters and plot of Underworld do not belong to me. I am not receiving any profit for this writing. If you are the copyright holders, merely e-mail me before filing a lawsuit, and I will cease and desist at once.

The story. If I do not clarify things in it, or details, ask in the review, or click on my profile and send me a message.

I changed it to be more like Underworld while keeping the plot I made. many thanks toShadowsHaveOffended, andZELINIAfor being my first reviers, and being positive.

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_The war had raged for over two centuries. We knew that much. Warring lycan packs and vampire covens slaughtered each other almost on sight. They thought they were invisible. They thought wrong. We watched from the shadows as the monsters of the night battled We had know for eighty years of their existence. Whenever a vampire grew too thirsty for human blood, or a lycan saw us people only as walking meals, we hunted them down and killed them off. We defended the innocent… we died so they would notlive in terror of the full moon, or the night itself._

_I am a guardian. One of the best. Yet my abilities came at a price. I had been bitten, by a vampire, six years ago. I followed Parabellum's protocol, made for secrecy, and tracked the monster down and killed it, despite that I was wounded, sick. We knew the cure for their bites. A red-hot iron pressed to the wound after it was washed with holy water. I did not come in for the cure until after I killed the vampire. Two days after I was bit. For months I wondered just how much the cure had purged me… Had I become the thing I beheld as a monster? _

_Then three years later, while impersonating a vampire on a spy mission, two lycans scented me from my spot and mauled me. I barely escaped breathing. The cure too lycans bites was much more complex than vampire bites.. For six days I lay, near death, as the medicine battled the virus… The bites gave me inhuman fighting ability. I became the best guardian quickly. But I knew, eventually I would pay a price for my carelessness those years ago. _

_The lycans are on the prowl again. There has been a string of murders; four victims, found drained of blood, with needle marks in the neck. I and my partner shadowed some lycans for weeks; I can sense the vampires nearing. The deep breath before the plunge. _

_We guardians can blend into a crowd, if needed. Impersonate a vampire or lycan. Or merely become shadows, in a dark room._

_My name is Orithian. _

The rain came down, drizzling, and very cold. The Hungarian night was extremely bitter, worse than Chicago. Orithian hurried along, dressed in a black coat, following a lycan. Two, actually. They stood out like beacons in the crowd. Unlike everyone else, they didn't seem to care about the rain, and they did not walk hunched, or dash. It took the guardian only a minute to realize who was being tailed. A young man, probably 25-35, wearing a sweatshirt with a hood over his head. They were headed for the subway. The guardian's green eyes flicked towards his partner, who was keeping ahead of them. _Whatever the lycans want with him, we'll soon find out,_ he thought. He followed a good twenty paces behind the lycans, trying to stay out of their sharp sense of smell. He trotted down the stairs. Turing the corner, he felt it like a shocking wave. Vampires were nearby. Two, perhaps three. He surveyed the crowd, and picked one out instantly. A young man, extremely pale, thin, dressed like a death dealer. That couldn't be all. They almost never traveled alone, not the death dealers, not when tacking lycans. Another? A young woman, dressed entirely in black leather. Her skin was pale, nearly pure white, a sign of being a vampire. Then Orithian's attention shifted back to the lycans' mark. The man was heading for the train doors. The lycans followed. The man slowed, looking at the female vampire. She returned his gaze for a moment, then slunk against a pillar. Orithian, stopped, wondering for a moment if it was a set up. Probably not; the vampire female was pretty beautiful, the mark a normal young man. The mark glanced at the train, and continued to it. The lycans started showing people out of the way, heading straight for the man. _This will be a picnic. A crowd, lycans, and vampires._ Orithian reached for his gun, his heart picking up as he anticipated the fight. Suddenly the big black lycan stopped dead in his tracks, turned around. Orithian tensed, thinking he had been scented, despite the rain and crowd. The lycan locked eyes with the male vampire.

"Blood!" the lycan bellowed. He reached into his coat. Orithian ducked behind cover, watching. This was a lycan-vampire fight, he was not to become part of it.The lycan was using stery tmps, machine guns not much larger than a pistol, but much more devastating weapons. A woman suddenly was hit in the shoulder, and the lycan's mark rushed out, dragged the woman to cover, and started treating the wound. Orithian's partner, at the other end of the station, scrambled behind a pillar. The two vampires returned the lycan's fire, who was simply unloading dozens of bullets in their general direction. The smaller lycan suddenly drew a pistol, and managed to flank the vampires. He shot the man twice before the woman got off a shot at the lycan and made him retreat. Orithian saw the vampire collapse to the ground. _Why are the bullets affecting him so? _Orithian wondered. The vampire opened his mouth, crying out in agony as he burned in mere seconds, to ashes. The woman stepped out from behind the cover, dual-wielding berretas. She bravely advanced, firing rapidly, then ducking back to reload. Orithian saw the scrawny lycan making his way towards the mark. The guardian withdrew his weapon as well, a large, extremely powerful magnum, basically a hand cannon. The lycan grabbed the man's shoulder, just as Orithian fired once, shooting to kill. There a blast, then the huge silver round knocked the lycan backward like a physical blow, barely missing his heart. The lycan retreated, and ducked into the train. _They will never learn, vampires or lycans, _Orithian thought as he watched the battle continue._ Never leave home without a bulletproof vest. _The woman death dealer turned to look at him, hearing a shot. He put his back to the pillar, keeping her from seeing his face.

Suddenly another gun spurted. Another death dealer approached, blasting away with his small pistol, driving the big lycan into the train, who had apparently spent all his ammo. The small lycan ran off in one direction. The female death dealer snatched the dead vampire's camera, and pursued. The other vampire charged the big lycan, who was running parallel to the train. Orithian watched as the vampire impressively leapt through the rear window of the train, into the darkness. _Good luck,_ Orithian thought sarcastically. Orithian picked up the shell his pistol had ejected as it fired. His partner, a man nicknamed Hoot, walked up. He bent over, picked up the dead vampire's gun, and removed a single bullet from the magazine before placing the round in his pocket and putting the gun back the way it was. He was wearing leather gloves; no fingerprints would be left.

Without speaking, both men walked off, vanishing into the darkness. Hoot had stealthily taken plenty of pictures. The mark was safe for the moment, the lycans gone. Police sirens sounded, as they grew closer. But by the time they arrived, the body was gone, all the combatants disappeared as well.

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	2. But wait, it gets better!

Chapter 2

The characters and plot of Underworld do not belong to me. I am not receiving any profit for this writing. If you are the copyright holders, merely e-mail me before filing a lawsuit, and I will cease and desist at once.

Thanks again to all reviewers. You fellows make my day better.

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The two men walked quickly, silently through drizzling street. They walked over to a business, no sign above the door. In perfect tandem they walked through the automatic doors, sudenly inside what appeared to be an insurance office. Orithian walked into the back room, took the black glove off his hand, and pressed it against the tiny mirror. It beeped, and the wall slid to the side to reveal an escalator, going down. It stopped at what appeared to be a small room with a safe, and a locked oak door. Orithian pressed his eye to the small retinal scanner in the wall. It shined an unpleasant bright light into his eye, and scanned it. There was a sound of a lock being released, and the two men walked into a huge underground room. There were large desks in perfect rows, and men at most of them.

Orinthian took Hoot's digital camera, and plugged it into his computer. The pictures were downloaded in four seconds. He nodded, then handed it back to Hoot, who would download the pictures as well. Orithian started typing up a report, standard procedure. He typed it up, and electronically sent it to his superiors.

Orithian leaned back in his chair, taking out his magnum, cleaning it, the opened up a drawer, revealing several boxes of bullets and five magazines. He took the magazine out, and replaced the spent shell. Then he put the loaded magazine back in, and placed it on his desk. He could still remember, halfway through training, when weapons were assigned. It was decided for trainees what gun they were best at, and they were given pistols, or uzi's and such. One day Orithian had forgot to clean his gun. It had jammed in firing practice. His instructor had taken his magnum, cleaned it, and handed it back. No before saying, "This weapon is your life, young man. Try to take care of it." He smiled slightly at the memory. The magnum was custom made to cut the noise down level of the shots down a bit. It was far from silent, but it wouldn't damage his ears.

Orithian glanced at the small plaque of graduation. Underneath it was a gold name plate. The name plate on his desk read **A. Orithian. **Whenever you were transferred, they changed your last name in all your documents. Orithian's first name was Andrew. But saying Andrew Orithian did not flow well. He'd make sure he'd get a real last name next time he was transferred.

He scrolled through the various pictures Hoot had taken with the camera hidden in his palm pilot. Using a special program, he cut the faces out off the best ones, and put them through the identification program. It accessed all local databases as well as Parabellum's, and brought up the subjects files.

The three vampires were Selene, Nathaniel, and Rigel, all death dealers. There was only info on one lycan, the big black guy. His name was Raze. Orithian laughed at the irony. Raze meant something along the lines of, totally destroy. The file on the lycan's mark popped up.

Michael Corvin. A medical intern, at a local hospital. 32 years of age, moved here from the United States for unknown reasons. His address was their as well. Orithian printed the file out, and put his magnum back in the holster.

He walked over to Hoot's desk. It was empty. He opened up the drawer, and tok out an I.D. badge Identifying him as a detective. Orithian found Hoot in the lunch room, sipping hot coffee.

The man looked up as he approached. "You know, I made coffee, during an operation in Central America, when every else got to be an army ranger?"

"You told me. Here's the file on the mark. I say we go see if we can dig anything up on him," Orithian said, pointing to the color photo. Hoot looked at it.

"Why not?" he asked, draining the rest of the cup. Orithian gave him a pat on the back.

"You'll go far in this business. Let's go!" He said, folding up the paper. "Take this." He handed him the police badge. "You can give someone a speeding ticket for fun, if you get to bored."

Twenty minutes later…

They pulled up into a parking space across from the squalid apartment building. Orithian parked the black hummer. "Wait in the car. Give one beep of the horn when you see Michael coming. I'll be back in a few minutes," he said to Hoot, who merely nodded. Orithian walked quickly up the flight of stairs, and found the room. At the end of the hall, near the window. Orithian knocked. No one answered. He pressed his ear to the wall, and listened. No noise. Reaching into a catch on his belt, he took out a lock-pick. He picked the lock in eight seconds, and let himself in, then re-locked it after he shut it.

He didn't need to turn the light on. After being bit by the vampire, his vision in the dark was fine. He opened the desk, looking for documents, a diary, anything. A pack of photos. He flipped through them. Family, vacation with family, girlfriend, park. He found a small stack of bills, and a un-cashed check. Job check. Orithian glanced at the amount it was for, then shook his head. Almost worse than his paycheck, which was pretty pathetic. But then, his room, food, gear, medical bills and vehicle were paid for by Parabellum.

Suddenly he heard soft footsteps in the hall. Orithian froze, slowed his breathing, did not move an eyelash. It was not Michael. Hoot would have beeped the horn. Suddenly the door splintered and flew in. Orithian had pressed himself against the wall, totally in shadow. In entered the woman he recognized as Selene, from the subway. She walked non-chalantly over to the desk, going through the exact same stuff. Orithian did not make sound. Suddenly the phone rang. The woman was startled. Orithian heard a beep from his hummer. _This will be an interesting situation, _he thought, knowing Michael was coming up. The answering machine got the phone. The floorboards in the hallway creaked every so slightly. The door moved a tiny bit. Orithian could see Michael's face, the fear on it.

"Hey, Michael, its Adam. The police were just here, looking for you. They think you're involved somehow with the subway shooting. I told them you would never do anything like that, but they're out there, looking for you," The answering machine ended.

Michael was fully inside his apartment, unaware two people had beaten him home. Neither Selene nor Michael knew of Orithian's presence. Selene suddenly moved, lunging forward, grabbing Michael by the throat, and holding him up against the wall.

"Why are they after you?" She demanded forcefully, in a definite English accent. Orithian decided he give it one more second before acting. Michael just gasped for air, not believing he was being held up, off the ground, by his throat, by a woman, in his own apartment.

Orithian moved forward. Suddenly there was a chilling howl. They say about a lycan's howl, If you're close enough to hear a lycan howl, you are already dead. All three heads turned as something started kicking holes in the roof. Orithian drew his magnum, moved for the door, and fired at the ceiling. The gun sounded like an explosion in the small space. Michael ran. The woman gave Orithian a brief look but fired at the lycans as they tried coming through roof.

Both Orithian and Selene ran into the hallway at the same time. Michael was getting in the elevator. Selene dashed down the hall after him. Orithian knew even a vampire couldn't close the distance of a hall length that fast. He opened the door to the stairwell, took three steps, and leaped down. He opened the first floor door, as automatic gunfire erupted over his head. He glanced left and right. Someone was walking down the hallway towards the elevator. Orithian took raised his magnum. He could tell quickly, it was a lycan. They walked and dressed a certain way, like bikers, or muggers. Some sort of dress code.

The lycan stopped in front of the elevator. It opened. The man said something softly. Orithian's ears caught it, though. "Hello Michael." That was it. Orithian raised his pistol, holding on both hands he fired. **BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! **The lycans was thrown sideways, clear of the elevator. Orithian dashed forwards, sensing the vampire had somehow ended up right behind him. Michael was still in the elevator when Orithian grabbed his arm and forcibly hauled him away. Selene was right behind him. She glanced at the downed lycan, then followed.

"We can take my car," Selene said, once they were out of the building. Orithian grabbed Michael, and checked his shoulders and neck for bite marks. None at all, thank goodness. Hoot swung the hummer to a halt a few feet from Orithian.

"I brought mine!" Orithian shouted. He opened the back door, and turned to Michael. "Get in!"

Michael did not. "What is going on!" Michael asked/screamed.

Orithian opened the driver door, and said to Hoot. "Scoot over!" He looked into the building. The lycan was getting up. He looked at Michael. "Come with me if you want to live." He got in the car. Selene was already in hers. The two cars raced down the street. Michael glanced out the back window.

"Uh, the man you shot four times is catching up to the car!" Michael said, panicking slightly. Orithian glanced in the mirror. He was definitely going after them, not the vampire.

"Lets see how fast he can go," Orithian said calmly. He revved the hummer. It smoothly sped up, going fifty. The lycan was gaining. He leaped, and landed on the car. There was a noise as he tried to stab through the roof.

Orithian smirked. "The glass is bulletproof, the body of the car is armored." Suddenly the face of the bloody lycan appeared next to his window. Orithian swerved, trying to scrape him off. The lycan hung on, and punched the window. The glass cracked. "Determined lycan, isn't he?" Hoot remarked.

Orithian reached for his magnum. The next punch shattered the window. Orithian shot at him, getting off a few rounds. "You like that?" he shouted, firing again. The lycan ducked again, putting his face next to the window. Orithian shot again, but the hand grabbed his gun. "Wheel!" Orithian cried a split second before letting it go and directly punching the lycan in the face. Hoot grabbed the wheel and kept the huge car on course. The lycan drew back a clawed fist, and suddenly there were six rapid shots. The lycan fell off the car, unfortunately not under the wheels. The vampire had pulled up on his left, and shot the boarder off of his car. Orithian shakily slowed down, the vampire following suit. Orithian stopped a couple miles away. Michael was not speaking. It had been a bit much for him.

Orithian got out of the hummer, looking at the damage. The window was shattered, big gouges all over the top. Not too bad, but definitely bad. The vampire pulled up next to him. "Thanks for your help. And thanks for not missing," He said. Michael got out.

Selene got out the car. "Who are you people?" She demanded. Orithian rubbed his eyes.

"This is Michael Corvin. Michael meet Selene," Orithian said, jumping slightly to see how bad the damage was on the roof.

Selene nodded hello at Michael, "I knew _his_ name, I want your name!"

"I can't say," he said. "I signed a discretion form."

"I saved your life! Who are you?" Selene said, reaching for her little pistol. Orithian turned to Michael.

"Were leaving. Get in," He said. Michael glanced at Selene.

"Your going to leave her alone? What if that guy comes back?" Michael asked. Selene looked insulted at the insinuation she couldn't defend herself.

Orithian laughed. "She is more fit to survive on her own than any of us three men are. Get in the car." Michael did.

He looked at Selene. "Again, my thanks. Here is a small memento from me and my friends." He reached into his pocket, and tossed her a small, glittering object. Selene caught it effortlessly. It was a small 9 millimeter bullet, made of solid gold.

"Parabellum. If you want peace, prepare for war," she read, rotating the golden bullet to read the tiny inscription. Orithian got in the hummer, started it up, and drove off. She just watched as it vanished around the corner.

"All right, what is going on?" Michael asked from the backseat. Orithian and Hoot looked at each other, then Orithian cleared his throat.

"I am not sure exactly how to put it," Orithian said. "But your life just got more complex."

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Well, that's chapter 2. I hope you liked it. Just so you know, reviews encourage me to hurry and update.

Andrew Fisher15 out.


	3. More complex than that

Chapter3

**Cass of the East**; Thank you. **London Vixen**, I am afraid Kraven might not make it to Underworld evolution in my story. I am afraid I do not like him terribly.

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"What do you mean, complex?" Michael asked. "Why don't we just call the police to get the lunatic who leaped on the car? And why were you and that woman in my apartment! I should just call the cops myself!" Orithian gripped the steering wheel tighter, annoyed.

"We do not call the police for multiple reasons. A. The police would merely be slaughtered. B. We have been successful enough on are own. And why was I at your apartment? If you didn't notice, at the subway shootout, one of the partakers of the shootout grabbed you. I was there to find out why they might be after you. I picked the lock, entered, looked around. If things had gone better, you would never have know I had been there," Orithian said, turning the corner.

"We have to tell him, Orithian." Hoot said. "I think we can trust him." Orithian glanced at Hoot.

"Tell me what? And how did you know one of the men grabbed my shoulder?" Michael asked. Orithian sighed.

"Well," Orithian said. "Why don't you tell him?" Hoot shook his head.

"You would say it better than me," Hoot said.

"I know, because it was me that shot him, making him release you," Orithian said. Michael was silent. He looked nervous.

"Let me give you a crash course on what has happened," Orithian said. "Werewolves and vampires are real creatures." He looked in the rearview mirror to see his reaction. None.

"They are quite real, and unfortunately for us humans, vampires drink human blood like we drink coffee. Werewolves eat people like we eat fried chicken. And, both vampires and werewolves are quite a bit stronger than humans, physically. We believe their used to be much, much terrifying werewolves and vampires, but they have all but vanished," Orithian said calmly.

"Okay," Michael said. "Then were did they come from?"

"We don't know for sure," Hoot said. "But we know that it is caused by a mutating virus. And it can be transmitted like rabies. Through the saliva glands."

"Which explains why the legend is the bite of a vampire or werewolf will turn you into one," Orithian interjected. "Like the legends, they are extremely affected by a few things. Werewolves, or lycans, as we call them, are violently allergic to silver. Vampires are burned by the sun. Vampires may be weak against garlic, holy water, and crucifixes, but we prefer to not test new attack methods, but stick to proven ones."

"But," Michael said. "Vampires and werewolves real? Be serious!" Orithian gave him a serious look.

"Then, please, explain why you saw me shoot a man four times with **magnum** rounds, saw him fall, saw the holes left in him in his flesh, and then he got up, chased down our speeding hummer, and punched through bulletproof glass while hanging on at fifty-odd miles an hour?" Orithian said pleasantly. Michael opened and closed his mouth several times.

"I don't know," Michael admitted quietly.

"Then there is no other explanation." Orithian started the car back up, and drove in front of a solid wall. He idled the car, and stepped out.

"What's he doing?" Michael asked Hoot.

"Wait a moment." Hoot replied. The wall suddenly shifted, and opened, revealing a garage.

"What?" Michael asked. Orithian got back in the car. Hoot smiled and spoke as the Orithian drove in and the wall moved back.

"Welcome to Parabellum, Michael Corvin."

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That's it for the moment. I appreciate all reviews. I love all positive reviews. I adore all reviews that give suggestions, or reasons why they like the story.

Andrew Fisher15 reporting out.


	4. The boss

Hello. Here is chapter four.

You may realize that the name, 'Hoot' and other names that will pop up in this story are characters from the film Black Hawk Down. I do not own it at all. The use of those names is tribute to our soldiers.

"Parabellum?" Michael asked. "What is that? And why did you take me here?" Orithian parked the car and got out. So did the others.

"Parabellum is a group of highly dedicated people sworn to protect the population from vampiress and lycans," Orithian said. "And why did we bring you here? You are, for some reason unknown to us at this time, being hunted by lycans. We brought you here to protect you."

"I can take care of myself," Michael said. "You took me hostage!" Hoot groaned.

"Oh, you can take care of yourself, eh?" Orithian asked mildly.

"I just said that," Michael replied angrily. Orithian hid a smirk as he leaned against the hummer.

"Some how I happen to recall a young woman grabbing you by your throat, and hoisting you several feet off the ground against a wall. And do you think that lycan who chased down my car and damaged it was scary? You haven't seen scary. And that guy was not at his toughest. If he was fighting his hardest, it would have been quite unlikely that anything would be left for the police to bag," Orithian said. "If you want to go make yourself lycan chow, you can ask my superiors. Questions? Objections?" That outburst silenced the man. Hoot smiled as he watched. Orithian started walking towards the exit.

Orithian stopped. "By the way, my name is Orithian and his nickname is Hoot."

"Orithian?" Michael asked. Orithian grimaced at how he said it.

"When you get transferred in this line of work your last name is changed. My real last name is not Orithian," he said. "My real first name is Andrew, in case you were wondering. I know you are Michael Corvin."

"So, you're saying you're a vampire slayer?" Michael asked. Orithian headed off to the left and spoke to the man at the garage security station. Then he turned his attention back to Michael.

"Not really. I am a guardian. We do not kill vampires or lycans on sight. We only fight when necessary to protect civilians. We only hunt down to kill murderous vampires and lycans. Sort of like police. But if we come after you, don't bother calling a lawyer," Orithian replied. They entered back rooms of the insurance office. Orithian was careful to dodge any customers. He pressed his hand to the small mirror. The wall shifted and they rode the escalator one floor down to a small room with a safe.

"How can you tell if someone is a vampire or lycan?" Michael asked. Orithian winced as he unlocked the door using the retinal scanner.

"Vampires are usually extremely pale," Hoot answered. "Usually are very physically fit, not looking like a slob. Clean cut. And they like leather and dark colors. And you will never see them walking around during day."

"Lycans tend to be much more bulky and more biker-looking," Orithian said, as the door opened.

Michael looked around the underground room, people milling everywhere. Orithian continued talking as he walked towards his desk. "That woman who grabbed you by the throat, Selene. She is a vampire, a death dealer."

"A death dealer?" Michael asked. Orithian looked at him.

"Vampires and werewolves," he said, "hate each other. They are at war. It's a war that will probably only end once one side goes extinct. As the fact is, both are immortal, so the same leaders stay in power for quite some time. Death dealers are vampires who spend all their time trying to eradicate lycans by killing them all." Orithian walked towards his desk. Hoot split off and went to make a report. "Are you too tired to go on right now? We have spare quarters on sub-level two." Michael shook his head.

"I am not sure I could sleep right now," He commented. "How do you know so much about vampires and werewolves, err, lycans?" Orithian took his coat off, and his gun holster.

"We have a huge network of surveillance around the city. And we have dozens of spies. But that's classified, and I don't even know fully how we do it." He handed him a cold bottle of water. Michael accepted it gladly.

"So, are vampires and lycans much tougher than humans?" Michael asked. Orithian cleaned his gun.

"Vampires can jump, leap of building roofs without harm, cling to walls and are much more nimble than humans, faster reflexes, better eyesight, hearing, much better sense of smell. Not To mention stronger and immortal. But they can't eat normal food," Orithian said, checking some computer files. "They have to drink blood. As mauling of people or livestock is rare, they must be getting blood from another source. Lycans can turn into huge wolves when a full moon comes out. Some lycans can change without the moon, a very small number. It is extremely difficult to fight a transformed lycan is hand combat, next to impossible."

Hoot approached, startling Michael, who looked fearful of monsters.

"Uh!" Michael said, jumping. Orithian looked at him.

"Are you frightened?" He asked, studying the man closely.

"Yes," Michael admitted honestly.  
"Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you." Orithian said. He clicked on a computer icon. "That is what a fully transformed lycan looks like." Michael leaned closer to the picture of the eight foot tall beast. "Feel like staying at Parabellum?" Michael nodded. Hoot snorted.

"Orithian been telling you horror stories of his missions, Michael?" Hoot asked. Orithian growled. "We should go talk with the commander," Hoot said. He had two trays of food. Whatever was on the menu that day, probably fried fish. Hoot handed one tray to Michael, who started on it, and Hoot began eating from the other. "Oh, sorry, Orithian. Thought you could get your own," Hoot apologized.

"Forget it," Orithian said. He dug through his desk drawers until he found a meal replacement bar. Mint chocolate flavored, but he only had water at his desk. Several minutes later they finished eating.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, vampires and lycans," Orithian said. Hoot blew out a breath. Orithian scowled. "Anyway, the lycans are more like a pack of wolves. The vampires are more cunning, and more like people in habits. The vampires are winning at the moment in their war, in case I didn't say so already."

"We should go speak to the commander," Hoot repeated. Michael looked around.

"How do you finance a base like this? Is this a government agaency?" Michael asked.

"Oh no," Orithian said. "We don't report to any branch of any government. They ask to many questions. But we do own some major companies. Heckler and Koch, for one," Orithian said as he walked towards the elevator. No reason to take the stairs. Michael smiled.

"A group of vampire and werewolf slayers own a major gun designing corporation?" Michael said. Orithian pressed the elevator button.

"We deal with criminals as well. Murderers, kidnappers. Not just vampires and lycans," Hoot said seriously. The elevator arrived. They stepped in pressed a floor. No one spoke as it went down, deeper underground.

The elevator beeped open. It was a steel-colored rectangular room, with three doors evenly spaced apart. Orithian went and stood in front of the middle door. Hoot stood next to him, and gestured for Michael to come over. Michael suddenly realized their was a video camera above the door. The door slid opened quietly, and they entered. It was a long, elegant hallway.

Along the hall were pillars, reaching to the high ceiling. There were around 20 guards, standing perfectly spaced apart, on both sides of the hallway. The helmets they wore had built in night vision, thermal vision, and each had a R.A.S. system, which allowed them to see what the security cameras around the underground complex saw. Each guard was dressed in black leather, with a sword hanging from their belts, and each held a high-power machine gun capable of stopping nearly anything. Orithian strode past them confidently. At the end was a set of double doors. Orithian paused.

"Michael, we are about to see Commander Garrison. He is the leader of Parabellum in Europe. He is the general in charge of this base. Be respectful." With that warning, he opened the doors. Orithian and Hoot saluted. Commander Garrison was an aging fifty year old general, his hair grayed. He was at a huge oak desk with various papers and displays. He got up and walked over to the three.

"Good to see you again, Andrew," Commander Garrison said. "You been surviving with him, Hoot?"

"Yes sir," Hoot said.

"Sir, this is Michael Corvin." Orithian said. "We had to bring him here to protect him from lycans, sir." Garrison shook Michael's hand.

"Very sorry you got dragged into this, son." Garrison said. "So, what is your take on what is happening, Andrew? I read the report Hoot submitted"

Orithian took a breath. "Well, the lycans are after a human. Michael, in particular. And they are very determined. You read on the report, and what happened to the hummer?" Garrison walked back to his desk and picked up the paper.

"Yes," Garrison said. "So far we have few leads. Michael, I think it would be best if you stay here for a while. Is that okay?"

"Yes, sir." Michael said, tensely.

"Good. Hoot will show you to a room." Garrison nodded at him. "Orithian, remain."

Hoot walked out with Michael. Garrison picked up the report. "Andrew, we are trying to stay out of sight. Please be more remembering of that fact, okay?" Orithian nodded. "We do our best not to stop and chat with vampires. Try to stay under the radar, even in events such as these. I do realize that sometimes contact is unavoidable, and we can't just kill whoever sees us. "

"Yes, sir," Orithian said obediently.

"Good," Garrison said. He picked up another sheet. "About five minutes ago our watch posts around that vampire mansion report a lot of activity. A high-level vampire, called Kraven, left, with his entourage. Head out there and see if you can follow them. Spy on them. I would send someone else for this mission, but you're one of the few men I have that can stand up to vampires in a direct fight. Be careful," Garrison said, stressing the last two words. "Try to not be seen." He glanced at his computer screen. "You'd better hurry. Get one of those listening devices or a small camera before you go."

"Yes, commander," Orithian said, running towards the door.

"One more thing," Garrison called to him. Orithian skidded to a stop and looked back.

"Don't take a hummer," Garrison said, before going back work.

Hope you liked this chapter. If it was wordy and too much talking, sorry. I was reminded that Michael couldn't magiaclly know everyone and thing without being told.

Thanks to Cass of the East for reminding me to complete the explaining to Michael! Thanks, Cass.

By the way, who do you think should kill Viktor, if he dies; Selene, Kraven, Michael, Orithian, Lucian, Raze, or Hoot? I might follow the vote, I might not.

I will make a part where Orithian explains how he got into the job, and the whole story 'Choose your Side' will end with Michael and Selene together.

One more thing. I love all positive reviews. And reviewers. But reviews are better when they are clearly written. Please write clearly, or I feel I am missing a critical idea that could make my story much better and it makes me feel bad.


	5. A stroll in the night

Chapter five is here! Thanks again to all reviewers.

I decided who should kill Viktor, and all that. It should be good.

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Orithian nodded. "That sounds like a good idea." Garrison waved.

"Just get going!" Garrison said. Orithian turned and ran back the way he came. He just took the stairs instead of wasting time with the elevator. He stopped at his desk and grabbed a digital camera, and distance listening device, a laser mic, along with his gun. The mic worked by interpreting the sound waves that bounced from voice off glass and such. Several tech workers tried to dodge as he ran by; wasted effort, as he would have ran past without bumping them. Once in the garage he selected a speedy little black sports car. The onboard computer in the car gave him the location of Kraven's vehicle and what route Orithian should take.

It was still dark, after midnight. The wall moved and let him through, then reformed. The night was quiet and cold, no full moon. Orithian got within several blocks of the target vehicle and stopped. It was on the other side of that building. He quietly got out of the car, with the camera and laser mic in his pockets. Orithian quietly walked to the corner of the building. The car was half a block down. Orithian started taking pictures. There were around twelve people, two vehicles. He could tell a few were vampires. The majority were lycans. Orithian was careful to stay in the building's shadow. But that would not matter with their night vision abilities.

Someone stepped out of one vehicle. Orithian took a few shots of his face. Very pale, sloppy looking for a vampire. He stepped into the car. Orithian got the laser mic out. It took a few seconds to adjust. Suddenly he could hear their talk through the microphone. "… the humans are of no concern, Kraven," a voice said. "Humans that know vampires and lycans are real! And what is with that human Michael?" another voice asked. Orithian couldn't tell who was who. There was slight sound of a scuffle. "I said the humans are of no concern!" the other voice said. There was silence for a moment. "Just keep your men at bay, Lucian," Kraven replied. "I've laid low for long enough," Lucian growled. "Don't make me regret our deal." Kraven said. Lucian merely said, "I've bleed once for you already. Without me you would be nothing. You would have nothing." At that point the vampire got out the car. He gave a look to what appeared to be one of his men, then left. Orithian crept slightly closer. There were guards. Perhaps if he interrogated one… A unsuspecting lycan. He softly grabbed the lycan guard and placed his pistol against the werewolf's temple, putting his other arm tight around his neck. Breaking necks was fairly silent. He stepped the guard back into an alley a few paces. Then he started interrogation.

"Who was in the car?" Orithian growled, shoving the pistol's muzzle harder against the lycan's head.

"Ah, who-" the lycan gagged out.

"Answer the question," Orithian growled.

"If I tell you, he'll kill me!" the lycan said, terrified. It wasn't a full moon; he couldn't change into his wolf shape.

"Then he's not as creative as I am," Orithian said.

"All right! It was Lucian, meeting with Kraven!" the guard said.

"Who is Lucian?" Orithian asked.

"The leader of the lycans," the guard said pitifully.

"Why would a lycan meet with a vampire?" Orithian asked.

"Some… pact, to end the war, and over throw the elders!" The lycan whimpered like a dog.

"Why are you after a human named Michael?" Orithian asked. That would be his last question.

"I don't know!" he said.

"I bet the upper half of your skull you do. Tell me, and you live," Orithian said hurriedly.

"Okay! The… scientist thinks he a descendant of Corvinus! We could use his blood to make hybrid, to keep power. It would have no weaknesses. We could use it to defeat the vampires if the treaty fails!" The lycan moaned.

"Thank you for your time," Orithian said. "By the way, things will go better for you if you don't mention you saw me." He drew back his large gun, and used the but of it to club the lycan over the head. Orithian being part vampire/lycan, he had enough strength to knock him unconscious. He placed the lycan down quietly. There was noise of a car starting. Orithian stepped over the body, peeked, and saw the vampires car leave. Just the lycans were left. They started getting into their vehicle. Orithian quickly decided to go before they counted heads. He ran lightly through the alleyway to cut back to his car. Trying to be quiet, he started his car. No one seemed to notice as he drove off. _A hybrid? A vampire traitor? Lucian? _Orithian wondered. Orithian didn't returned directly to headquarters. He put some distance between himself and the lycan group, parking in front of a cathedral Orithian called Garrision on his secure cell phone.

"Garrison here," the commander said.

"It's Orithian, commander," Orithian. "I found were those vampires went. There's some plot. A vampire and lycan are in leaque."

"What!" Garrison exclaimed. "What else did you find out?"

"The vampire Kraven and some high ranking lycan named Lucian were meeting. That death dealer, Selene, evidently brought up Michael back at their manision. The vampire asked the lycan about it," Orithian said.

"Go on."

"The lycan brushed his question off. I laser mic'ed the conversation and recorded it. Here, you can listen." Orithian placed the phone next to the tape. Garrison quietly listened.

"Good work, son. Seriously, good work," Garrison said. Orithian hesitated before going on talking.

"I grabbed and interrogated a lycan guard," Orithian said. "Found out why they are after Michael." Garrison groaned.

"I thought I told you to lay low!" Garrison said. "You interrogated a lycan guard? Did you get into a firefight, I suppose?"

"No. The guard said the reason they are after Michael is because some scientist thinks he is a descendant of Corvinus, whoever that is," Orithian said.

"Who he was. It's some legend the vampires and lycans have about how they came to be. What else did you find out?" Garrison asked tiredly.

"They think they can somehow use him to make a hybrid, half-vampire half-lycan. All the strengths, none the weaknesses," Orithian said. Garrison laughed at that.

"That'll be the day. A hybrid… no one has ever survived a bite from both monsters, except you, sort of. Well, that clarifies up the question of how soon he's safe on his own. Not for a while," Garrison said. "Good work. Head on back." _Click_. Orithian got out of the car, and watched the people going by. The cathedral was near the subway shootout sight. Orithian just watched the people go by, the people he risked his life to protect. He could still remember that night, so many years ago… His thought were interrupted. His senses screamed danger. Orithian turned in a split second, drawing his gun and crouching. He heard a light flapping noise. Orithian saw instantly who it was. _That_ vampire, Selene, again. It was that coat she wore that made the noise. Orithian turned back to his car, holstering his magnum.

"You again. Are you following me or something?" Orithian asked Selene. She looked annoyed. Orithian looked up at the face of the cathedral. He couldn't see any ledge or anything for a good 150 feet at least.

"In a way, yes," Selene said. When she had hit the ground, she didn't even roll to absorb the impact.

"Is it a hobby of yours to leap off tall buildings?" Orithian questioned mildly. "But then, vampires can do that."

"Are you a human?" Selene asked, staring hard at him. "Of all fights I've seen humans in, none have come close to you. You move to fast, to smoothly. To calmly, when faced by lycans."

Orithian rubbed his eyes and moved to enter the car. "I'm not your average night watchman, I'll say that. Goodbye." He reached to close the car door. Selene moved out with lighting speed and yanked his arm extremely hard. Orithian tumbled out of the car, turned it into a roll, and reached for his gun. Selene had two pistols trained on him before he could draw his weapon.

"What?" Orithian growled angrily. He stood up fully, several inches taller than her. He now wished he had headed straight back to base like the commander said. Selene did not look happy either.

"I want answers," Selene snapped. "I will ask the questions, you will answer. Who are you?"

"Why should I tell you?" Orithian said, not looking alarmed in the least.

"Because I'll shoot your kneecaps off if you don't." Selene said calmly, keeping one pistol aimed at his face, the other at his knee.

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I'll leave it at this cliffhanger. But, rest assured, it means I'll update soon, within a couple days.

By the way, it's my birthday on the 22 of August, Tuesday!

Careful. A computer programmer I know said that Muslims all over the globe might try to create enough chaos on the 22 to usher in their golden age of Muslim rule or something and Iran might nuke Israel on that day. (They sure don't like each other much.) I don't know the details. Might want to buy a .38 special, just in case something happens. I sure hope nothing happens. Starting World War 3 on the on my birthday would be mean of them.


	6. Knock knock

Chapter 6. By the way, happy birth day Shadowshaveoffedened. Happy birthday to me, too. At the finish of the story I'll tell you all my age. If I told you know, you might think worse of my story.

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"Really?" Orithian asked. He looked at the pistols. Nine millimeters, likely.

"Who are you ?" Selene asked.

"Andrew Wesley Orithian," Orithian said, not seeing any harm in that.

"Who are you working with?" Selene continued.

"I think I told you I would not tell you?" Orithian said. "I signed a disclosure." Selene moved her hand, pulling the trigger one of her pistols. Orithian moved like lightning. He batted one gun away, grabbd it and twisted it. He kicked the other hand and the pistol clattered away. He used a martial arts move to trip Selene, flexing his left wrist and a tiny .22 pistol slid out of his sleeve, loaded with tracer rounds, fatal to vampires. He pinned her down and put the pistol under her throat. The whole take-down took three seconds.

"What is it with you!" Orithian shouted. He pushed harder with the pistol, jabbing her in the throat somewhat. "You have a bad day and decide to shoot someone?" Selene didn't speak for a second.

"Now I know you're not human. No human could have done that," Selene said.

"That's right. I was bitten by a vampire, and took a while getting the cure. And when I bitten by a lycan, the cure we have for that is only somewhat effective," Orithian said, not letting her up.

"So you're an abomination, a hybrid," Selene said, not showing any worry.

"I'm an abomination? You're a vampire intent on genocidaly eradicating lycans, monsters fighting monsters. Now you are all alone. A lousy way to die." Orithian asked. Selene looked up at him fearlessly.

"We all, die, alone," Selene choked out. "That's how the stories end for people like me, for people like you." Orithian growled and pulled back the hammer on the small pistol. Selene closed her eyes in anticipation of the shot. Orithian froze. _What am I doing? _He thought suddenly. _I'm about to kill a woman! _He slowly clicked the hammer back, and stood up. Selene looked up at him, a vulnerable woman for a second. Orithian turned away.

"You immortals are like that. So not caring. So cold, heartless." Orithian said. He placed his hand on his neck, comforted by the warmth he felt, human warmth. "I am a person." Selene got up and retrieved her pistols.

"What, I should adopt your life philosophy?" She asked. Orithian looked at her.

"You immortals care nothing of life. And yes, we often die alone. But when I lay bleeding to death in an alleyway, I'll know my sacrifice made a difference. That I protected people. That I did something good!" Orithian said. Selene looked away.

"But when you die, which you one day will, immortal or not, what will you tell your maker you did with your life?" Orithian said. Selene didn't speak.

"I was once at a battle scene. A destroyed lycan den The vampires hewed the corpses of lycan _infants._ You're not waging a clean war. It is fighting, then genocide when the chance comes. We guardians kill murderers and guard the innocent. Why do you kill them? For fun?" Selene looked up slowly.

"The lycans killed my family." Selene said softly, a tear running down her cheek.

"Several lycans killed your family! You would blame a species of creatures for the actions of a few? You're family is dead, and you've have spent two hundred years in an empty existence slaughtering a race under the excuse of revenge when you know full well that the lycans that killed your family died long ago!" Orithian said. "I am an abomination? Look in the mirror!"

He stopped for a moment. The young man looked away, staring into space. When he turned back, the anger was gone, replaced by a look of grief. He said quietly, "I'm sorry. But life is short, Selene. Then one day… it's gone." With that, the guardian got in his car, and left, leaving the death dealer to her thoughts.

Orithian somersaulted forwards into the hallway and fired pistols from both hands, nicking the target dummies precisely in the faces. He moved smoothly, disarming another and using it as a human shield as he fired at others. _Forget it. I've done this so many times_. Orithian thought. He unloaded the guns, walked out of the training course, and put them back in the armory. The armory was one of three in the base. Basically a 10' wide by 25' long rectangular room, with the alcoves in the walls. There was every weapon one could need. Swords, spears, handguns, sub-machine guns, sniper rifles, heavy-duty machine guns such as SAWs, various assault rifles.

Hoot was helping Michael at the shooting range. Orithian walked up quietly as Michael carefully fired the silenced rifle. The silhouette had holes in his legs, shoulders, chest. Orithian stood behind Michael. _Phut phut. _Michael reloaded.

"Not bad," Orithian commented. Michael was startled and nearly dropped the rifle.

"I didn't here you coming," He said. Hoot smiled.

"No one ever does," Hoot said.

"Sometimes I think I am dissolving, turning into a ghost or something," Orithian said. He reached for the gun. "Mind if I try?" Michael gave up the gun. Orithian raised it to his shoulder and fired six times in two seconds. All the rounds made a clean hole in the target's head, millimeters apart. Michael stared. Orithian handed it back. "A bit of a heavy gun. Hoot, try him on pistols. Give him a glock." Orithian looked at Michael. "Glock is a good pistol." Michael shrugged.

Orithian had talked with the commander about why the lycans were after Michael. They decided to not tell him. Orithian had also left out his run-in with Selene. Orithian went over to the drinking fountain and quenched his thirst. Mid-way through his drink, the overhead lights turned a shade of green. Hoot's coat gave off an eerie glow, as well as Orithian's clothes. A calm voice came over the overhead speakers.

"Lycans have invaded the base. This is not a drill. All non-security personnel please make their way to the panic rooms. All security forces arm and repel invaders. This is not a drill," the calm voice said. There was a squeak of static as commander Garrison got on the intercom.

"We have nearly two dozen invading lycans. The top floor offices have been trashed and they have not found the entrance yet. All office workers have been killed by the lycans we believe, we can only tell so much from cameras. Get armed and ready! It's the real thing, people!"

Orithian looked at Hoot, who was calm, and Michael, who looked slightly nervous. "Hoot! Stay out of the action! Protect Michael! Michael, stay with Hoot. He'll keep you safe. I am going." Orithian darted out of the room, and to the armory, along with a dozen other fighters. He grabbed his favorite, the mp5. Then he considered something. _24 invading werewolves and I am about to grab a 9mm weapon!_

"Invading lycans?" One man said as he selected a rifle. "Dear God." Orithian looked at him.

"I think we need God on our side right now, don't you?" He asked the man. He was silent.

Orithian threw the submachine gun back and heaved a enormous M60 of the shelf. It was a gas-powered heavy machine gun firing a 7.62 round, for power. He selected a few belts of silver ammo. Each clip held 200 rounds. Struggling from the heavy weight of the gun, he surveyed the room. People were grabbing rifles and grenade launchers. Four seconds later they ran as a team to defend Parabellum.

Once on sub-level one, Orithian took his place behind some cover and aimed the huge gun at the door. Close to forty large weapons were pointed at the main door, which was three men wide. There were other stairwells and such going up, but they were also guarded. There was deathly silence through the huge room. The door shook. "Here they come," a man said softly. A blow rattled it. Another blow dented it hugely. Orithian tightened the grip on his weapon. The door suddenly exploded inwards. A huge, fully transformed lycan stood in the doorway, looking around at all the people, who reacted swiftly. The roar of weapon's firing was deafening.

The fight had begun.

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Okay, now you have it, C6. I will continue the fight, no cop-out on it. Leave a good review. Do it now.

Andrew Fisher15


	7. Bad night

Andrew Fisher15: Orithian, someone in a review asked about regrets in life or something.

Orithian (as he is walking over): You have a good audience.

Andrew Fisher15: Did you update the chapter for me while I was out?

(Shrugs and nods.) Orithian: Yep. Figured it was about time.

Andrew Fisher15: You yelled at _Selene!_ I never authorized that! She's everyone's favorite character!

Orithian: Did you authorize her to shoot my kneecaps off?

Andrew Fisher15:You could have been polite to her. But, no, you have to try to put some thoughts about life in the story.

Orithian: I'm making it worth reading. And Selene called me an abomination. Was that authorized?

Andrew Fisher15: That is beside the point. I am substituting you. (Reaches for laptop. Orithian pulls out magnum.) I am the author. You have no magnum pistol now. (Types. Magnum vanishes.) Haha! (Orithian calmly executes a neat take down and knocks writer flat.)

Orithian: Quit boasting and get on with the next chapter. Are the lycans invading or what?

Andrew Fisher15: (muttering) Why did I make you almost invincible? (Orithian rears as though about to punch.) Okay! Sheesh, here's the next chapter.

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The lycan ducked back behind the cover of the wall. The gunfire stopped abruptly. The lycan flashed his hand from his cover. BANGBANGBANGBANG! The lycan whipped his hand back, a blur. One of the lycans started throwing small grenades from behind the cover of the wall. Orithian counted ten or so, hurled at various parts of the room. There was a quiet hiss as they went off. "Gas grenades!" Orithian shouted. People ran. Orithian reached into the desk he was hiding behind. Every desk in Parabellum had standard things. One thing was a certain anti-gas grenade bomb. It gave off waves of smoke that contained chemicals that would neutralized the knockout gas. Orithian found a few of the grenades, and chucked them. He could no longer see more than a few feet because of all the smoke. The smoke wasn't affecting him much, he noted. There were gunshots, roars, screams, all around him. Orithian left his machine gun behind as ran forward, drawing his magnum. A lycan leaped out of nowhere. Orithian was taken off guard and knocked to the ground, his pistol went flying. The monster was on him in a flash. The lycan reared back, opened his mouth, about to rip the guardians throat out. Orithian reached into his boot and drew a knife, the blade a mix of silver and steel. Orithian twisted to dodge the bite and stabbed the lycan in the chest. The fully transformed wolf roared and stumbled backwards. Orithian leaped up. His 5 inch knife blade was fully into the lycan's chest. The lycan roared again, pulled the knife out, and tossed it away. He lunged forward. Orithian rolled under the leap, picking up his fallen pistol, jumped to his feet and shot the lycan two times in the chest, once in the head. There was a scream off in the smoke to his right. A whirring noise above him alerted him that the ventilation system was working. The smoke would be gone in a few seconds. Orithian went to aid the screamer. A transformed lycan was bent over a man, eating, not caring about the fight anymore. Orithian stopped for a second as he saw how little of the screamer was left. He calmly shot the creature three times with silver rounds. Orithian's pistol was nicked by a bullet. It flew off by the force of the bullet that had hit it. Orithian crouched and flexed his hand. A small pistol slid out of his sleeve, loaded with silver nitrate rounds. The smoke cleared, and Orithian saw the shooter, a lycan using a g36 machine gun. Orithian used a martial art technique and managed to avoid getting shot before making it to cover. He flipped himself over the desk, came at the lycan from behind, and shot him. Orithian checked the machine gun's rounds. Lead. The deep CHINGCHINGCHINGCHING of heavy machine gun fire sounded out, and Orithian threw himself flat on the ground as part of the bookcase next to him disintegrated. He picked up the lycan's machine gun, emptied the magazine into another lycan, then took him down with a chair to the head. He stopped briefly and reloaded his pistol, not noticing the blood flowing from the right side of his chest as he got up and continued to fight in the chaos.

Several bloody hours later….

People were hurrying about sub-level two. The small infirmary Parabellum had contained some of the best medical staff and equipment available, but they never prepared for close to fifteen critically wounded. Orithian heard from several people the werewolves took hostages. About eight men. Orithian also had not seen Michael, or Hoot. Garrison was already back in his offices, planning the next step. Orithian walked by the beds that held the wounded. He nearly tripped when he saw Hoot on one. Orithian slowly walked forward, seeing the I.V.s that were connected to him. Hoot looked barely conscious. Orithian looked at the medic helping him, with a gaze asking him what the status was. The man looked at him for a moment, then spoke. "We found him just about dead on sub-level two, near the shooting range. Some lycans must have got down the stairwells. There were four dead lycans by him. He was shot with nearly a dozen rounds. It's near unbelievable, but he will probably survive." Orithian picked up the bulletproof vest lying on the ground. It was riddled full of bullet holes. Hoot stirred, noticing Orithian.

"Hey, how did it go?" He asked. Orithian was unsure of what to say.

"Okay. They're gone now," Orithian said.

"They got Michael…" Hoot said slowly. Orithian shushed him.

"We'll get them back. Don't worry," he said. Hoot looked surprised.

"Them?" he asked. Orithian realized he didn't know how man men were captured.

"They took 9 prisoners, Hoot. But we'll get them back." Orithian said. Hoot took a breath.

"I… need to rest. Tell me when you get back." He closed his eyes. Orithian looked at the monitors quickly, and felt relief. Hoot was just asleep, not dead.

Orithian headed back to his quarters, not glancing at his pet turtle. The wound where the bullet scraped him was almost healed. He took he off his now-red coat, and collapsed on his bed. There was almost an instant knock and his door swung open. It was Commander Garrison.

"What are you doing?" He asked. Orithian didn't move.

"Resting. I just survived a major battle. I was wounded. I want sleep," Orithian said, his eyes closed. Garrison took out a water bottle and dumped it over Orithian's head. He jerked upright, alert.

"We have to get those men back Come with me."

_In Garrison's office…_

"All eight of our men are still alive. Remember sub-dermals?" Garrison asked. Orithian nodded. Sub-dermals were small computer chips inserted under the skin of each Parabellum worker. It gave off a signal that told location and vital signs. Eight dots were beeping on the computer.

"They are nearby, about ten miles. I had a couple men do thermal scanning of the building, and it shows close to fifty lycans hanging around." Garrison said. Orithian looked at the map of the area.

"There are underground entrances. We could take what forces we have left, and get them back," Orithian said. Garrison shook his head.

"What!" Orithian exclaimed.

"It's about four a.m. right now. And it's a full moon tonight. They will be crazed with blood lust, all of them able to transform. Nearly unstoppable. We have about fifteen fighters able to go. We have one option left," Garrison said. Orithian leaned back in a nice chair.

"Call for reinforcements?" Orithian asked.

"The lycans have one enemy, Orithian. We go to that enemy, and ask for help," Garrison said. "They will not resist the opportunity to wipe out lycans."

"Go to the vampires, to the death dealers?" Orithian asked incredulously. "Ask them to help us?" The commander nodded.

"We can't get our men back without the vampire's aid." Garrison said. "Nearest Parabellum is twelve hundred miles away. And they won't provide that much help."

"Ah," Orithian said. "We coordinate our attack with the death dealers then."

"Take a couple men and go negotiate peace with the vampires," Garrison said.

"They don't know we exist yet, do they?" Orithian asked. Garrison looked frustrated.

"Quit stalling, get a few men, get over to their mansion, and ask for help." Garrison said. He looked upset. "This is our only option, guardian. Get going."

Orithian saluted. "Yes sir."

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Yes, Selene and Orithian will probably team up. And the story will end the same place as the movie. But far more interesting, I hope. I love reviews.

I went back to school, 10th grade. I am fifteen, in case you were wondering. Spanish class, ehh... My moms thinks I'll have a really hard time learning it, because my older brother did.


	8. In the den of the bats

Chapter 8

Thanks for the reviews, LondonVixen and Shadowshaveoffended.

I like a little humor in stories.

I also love when reviews say 'great chapter' or phrases along that line.

Just so you know my level of devotion, I am writing this chapter on the road. As a passenger, as I go along to drop my older brother of at college in Florida. I live in Atlanta, Georgia.

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Orithian made his way back to his quarters and put some fresh clothes on before going to the vampires. Cleaned up, then he went to the armory. There was a small group of men there. A weapons designer rushed over to him. "Orithian! I've got a new weapon for you!" Orithian batted him away.

"I'm perfectly content with my magnum," Orithian said. The weapons expert, Grimes, would not be so easily dissuaded.

"This is better. Just as large a bullet, magazine-fed, unlike your ancient .357, has semi-auto, two shot burst, and full auto." He held up a large black handgun. It looked like a hybrid between the berretta 92fs and the desert eagle. The muzzle had a fierce look, as it looked like a inverted v at the end. Orithian looked at it, and slid the magazine out. It held 25 rounds, and it was loaded alternating tracers and silver nitrate. Orithian shrugged as he put it in his belt. Grimes smiled.

"I'll hold onto it." Orithian said. He directed his attention to the five or so men at the range. "All right. I need two volunteers for a mission!" All of them walked over. Orithian glanced them over. "You, and you, come with me," he said, pointing at the to most intimidating of them. He started walking away, and they followed, after picking up small weapons at the counter. one, a micro-uzi (a sub-machine gun the size of a pistol) and the other a mp7(a personnel defense ? sub-machine gun). He knew them men's names. Eversmen, and Steel.

"What exactly did we volunteer for?" Steel asked. Orithian didn't look back as he made his way to the garage, ignoring the bloody stains and wrecked furniture on the office level. He was thankful the bodies had been removed, all six of them. He selected his favorite, the impressive hummer.

"We," he said as he slid into the drivers seat, "are going to the vampires' mansion, and asking for assistance in getting our men back from the lycans." Steel and Eversman exchanged dubious looks.

"How do you know they won't try to turn us?" Eversman asked. Orithian drove down the road, which would still be dark for a couple hours. Orithian moved his boot slightly. The knife holster was uncomfortable suddenly.

"We do not know," Orithian said. "That's why I asked for volunteers, and got two that looked combat-able." He drove on in silence. The combat-able amount of men they had was roughly at 15 with the wounded and casualties.

No one spoke as he pulled in front of the vampires' mansion. Orithian stopped in front of the gate and looked around. There was no apparent handle or door to slip into the place. He noticed a glowing screen cleverly placed on the side of a pillar. He got out and went over to it. He pressed a small red button and heard a ringing noise. There was a response.

"What do you want?" A voice demanded crankily.

"I wish to speak with whoever is in charge here," Orithian said. A face appeared onscreen and stared at him.

"You cannot come in." the doorman said over the intercom. Orithian smiled.

"Now was it who was in charge here? Viktor, Markus, Amelia, or is it plain Dracula?" Orithian asked with a smirk. The face on the screen didn't get fazed. Orithian glanced at his watch. "Look, I already know this place is inhabited by vampires. Is Selene there? I'll get farther talking with her." The person on screen moved away, evidently talking to someone. Selene suddenly appeared on the small screen.

"You! What do you want?" She demanded. Orithian raised his eyebrows.

"How nice to see you again as well. I want to talk with whoever is in charge." Orithian said for the second or third time.

"Why?" Selene asked. Orithian sighed.

"The lycans raided us. They apparently were after Michael, but they also killed about thirteen of our men, and captured eight, not counting Michael. We know where they are, but we don't have the forces to go get them." Orithian said.

"Where who are?" Selene asked.

"The lycan den where my men are," Orithian said. "We know where the lycans are but don't have enough fighters to go get them. If the death dealers helped us, we could rescue our men, and you fellows get to kill more lycans." The gates suddenly swung open.

"Come in." Selene said.

"Thank you." Orithian said, then got back into the car. He looked at Steel and Eversman. "This might work." He pulled up in front of the mansion, and they got out, walking in perfect formation, Orithian leading and both others flanking him. He pushed the wide doors open, and stepped into the vampires fortress. Then he immediately wondered whether all martini-drinking crowd sitting at tables in the entryway were vampires or lazy European bureaucrats. All eyes suddenly turned toward Orithian, Steel, and Eversman. Orithian looked back fearlessly. Orithian could hear whispers.

Selene and a small group of vampires approached. Orithian recognized the vampire he had tailed, Kraven, whispering furiously into Selene's ear. She ignored him and focussed her attention on Orithian.

"Why did you come here, human?" Kraven demanded

"We have a lycan problem. Thought the vampires just might be the right people to ask for assistance," Orithian said. "I wish to speak with whoever is in charge."

"That would be Viktor," Selene said quickly. She looked defiantly at Kraven, as though daring him to contradict her.

"Then take us to him." Orithian said. Selene turned and walked out down a corridor of the dimly lit building. _Vampires. Figures it would be dark in here, _Orithian thought. He was thankful he had not worn a battle uniform, and that Steel and Eversman were dressed sharply. Selene glanced at a security mirror, and a set of doors opened. Selene, Kraven, and a black vampire Orithian didn't know walked in front of them into the cold room. _Like the catacombs,_ Eversman was thinking. _Lets hope we don't have to fight our way out of here, _Steel thought. The three vampires in front of them suddenly bowed on one knee. Orithian debated momentarily for a moment, then did not follow suit. He wouldn't bow to Dracula himself.

"My lord," Selene said respectfully. "These three humans wish to speak with you."

There was a slight coughing noise in the darkness, and a shape moved forward. _So that is Viktor._ Orithian thought. He looked like an unwrapped mummy. Orithian knew from studies that vampires could hibernate for centuries, but needed to be revived with blood. Viktor was hooked up to multiple iv's.

"Leave us," Viktor said. Selene gave Orithian a glance, then left the room, along with Kraven and the other vampire.

"Well?" Viktor asked crankily. "Who are you and why are you here?" Orithian responded tactfully.

"Sir. My name is Orithian, and I am a member of Parabellum," Orithian said. He continued. "We, Parabellum, are a group of people who have known for roughly 80 years about the existence of vampires and lycans. Our goal is to contain your conflict with the lycans, and keep civilians safe."

"How do humans know of our existence?" Viktor asked, his voice rising. "That cannot be!"

"The men who started our organization were several fragment groups of vampire and werewolves watchers, as well as some law enforcement who discovered your kind from the cults," Orithian said calmly. "But to get back on track. Recently there was a shootout at a subway between death dealers and lycans."

Viktor nodded. "How did you know?"

"I was there, sir. We realized the lycans were after Michael Corvin, so we went to take him in for protection."

"And you saw Selene there." Viktor said. Orithian realized Selene have must have told him quite a bit. Steel and Eversman were standing perfectly still.

"And who are your men?" Viktor asked.

"Eversman, sir," Eversman said.

"My name is Steel." Steel replied with an air of confidence.

(I stopped and my dad, brother, and I got burgers and shakes at this point.)

Orithian spoke. "These lycans, they attacked our base! We believe they were after Michael Corvin."

"Were they?" Viktor asked. Orithian felt Viktor knew plenty more about Michael than he let on.

"If they were, they succeeded, also in capturing eight of our men. That is why we came. Our fighting force was small, about thirty-five men, but a large number of us were killed or wounded by nearly two dozen lycans. So we came to ask the vampires for help." Orithian said.

Viktor didn't look like he was taking this seriously.

"No, really," Orithian said. "We know their exact locations. We have implanted subdermals, tracking devices, under the skin of all our workers. We know were the are, but we need the death dealers to help us go in and get them."

"What, vampires ally with humans to fight lycans?" Viktor asked in his strange voice.

"Precisely." Orithian said. "That's what I was sent to ask. I'm asking you for help against the lycans."

"Humans would be no help against lycans," Viktor said.

"Maybe most humans," Steel said suddenly. "But we can fight lycans."

"All creatures have weaknesses," Eversman said. "We find that weakness and expliot it."

"The team we would send with the death dealers would be our combat team," Orithian said. "We know what we are doing. Thermal scanning shows that roughly forty lycans are scattered around the target building and the underground passageways nearby. Together, we can do it."

Viktor was silent. Suddenly the large doors into the crypt swung open.

"My lord," the black vampire said, in a English accent, leading a team of death dealers. "The council members have… been murdered."

Viktor looked horrified. "What of Amelia?"

The other vampire did not look happy. "The bled her dry, my lord." Viktor turned to Orithian and his two men.

"Very well, we will fight them together. How soon will your combat team be ready?" Orithian thought for a second. "We can be deployed in half an hour."

"Were is Selene?" Viktor asked the vampires. She walked forward. He spoke gently.

"Forgive me for not trusting you, my child. Kraven will indeed pay with his life. These humans know where the lycans our. Plan the attack with them. You will lead our death dealers." Viktor said. Orithian noted how softly he spoke to her. Selene nodded.

"Come on," she said to Orithian. She led the three humans down into an elegant room filled with maps.

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Okay, this chapter is done. The battery on my laptop is going dry. I'll recharge is at the hotel. This next chapter should be fun.

Please review. If you don't like it, say so and I'll make it better. Your silence (no reviews) makes me worry.


	9. Wolf hunting, anyone?

Before we start reading Choose Your Side today, lets take a moment to say something.

I know it's late, but…

Never forget. 9/11 

Now, on with chapter nine.

Thanks for the couple of reviews, those few folk that review my chapters anymore, it seems. LondonVixen and Shadows have offended, if I recall correctly. Your reviews are wonderful to read, especially when no-one else reviews.

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Orithian walked over to the shooting range. Selene had offered to show the men around the mansion briefly, after the mission was carefully planned. Orithian stared at the shooting range. "Where's the target?" Selene smirked, and pressed a button. A panel opened, and a bust was raised.

"You shoot at Beethoven?" Orithian asked incredulously.

"I suppose you people just shoot at bulls' eyes," Selene said. She aimed her pistol and fired several rounds. Liquid silver oozed from Beethoven's eyes and nose. Orithian took out his magnum and fired once. The upper half of Beethoven's head suddenly exploded. He fired again. The remainder of the bust disintegrated. Selene didn't move for a moment.

"You still have hearing ability after using that weapon?" Selene asked mildly. Orithian gave her a slightly mean look.

"In fact, I do," Orithian said. "A powerful weapon makes the job easier." He glanced at his watch. "I'd say it's time to go. See you in an hour." He headed to the hummer. Steel and Eversman followed. Orithian glanced back at Eversman. "Call Garrison. Tell him to get the men ready, have them gear up," He said. Eversman did so. Orithian revved the very fuel efficient hummer, going slightly faster than comfort would allow. Steel tapped him on the shoulder.

"Mind slowing down before the flaming fireball part comes up?" Steel said.

"No." He slowed down. By two mph. Eversman spoke. "Okay, they are gearing up. You will be briefing them. I also told him to get those pilots to the airfield." Orithian pulled up in front if the garage entrance. He exited swiftly. Just as his hand touched the keypad, a voice spoke. "Gimme your wallet or die." Orithian looked at him. It was a mugger pointing a .22 at his head. Orithian batted the gun away, then pulled his new pistol out. BANG BANG! The mugger was on the ground. Orithian coolly started typing the code in. The mugger gasped for air. Orithian glanced over, saw him moving, then casually finished him off with one round to the head.

Steel stepped out of the car. "Taking out some stress?" he asked, staring at the corpse.

Orithian finished typing the code in. "He tried to mug me, and threatened me with lethal force. Under Parabellum code, I am charged with the duty to kill muggers." He glanced at the body. "Leave him."

"And let some kid discover a dead body?" Steel said. Eversman got out the car and walked inside the base.

"It's a full moon. A lycan will eat him and be happy for the meal," Orithian said. He pulled the car. Garrison met him before he could get to his room for his equipment.

"Orithian! Get to briefing room 6A now!" Garrison said. "I'll be in the back. The pilots have the Hueys ready to go at the airfield." Orithian combed his hair as he went down the stairs, and strode into the briefing room, looking fully confident.

"All right men, we have mission to do," Orithian said, tapping the a button on a remote. The screen behind him changed to a 3d map of the target building. "This is the target building. A old hotel, abandoned."

"Two teams. Team one goes in by chopper, team two by hummer." Small, animated hueys and hummers approached and soldiers deployed. "Four men with heavy weapons from team one will remain on the roof and hold the landing zone. The helicopters and hummers will leave as soon as you are deployed." The tiny vehicles left when Orithian tapped the remote. "Team one will work their way down, searching for the prisoners. Team two will secure the first floor, and the eight guardians of team two will go into the sewers and join the death dealers at this point. The others will work their way up, securing as they go.

"The mission is over when all the nine prisoners are found. Extraction is the roof. Get up there, signal, and a chopper will come. However, it is a fifteen floor building, so hopefully you won't have to evac until the mission is over. Get in and out ASAP. Any questions?" Orithian said.

"How many lycans in the target area, sir?" A soldier asked. Orithian took a breath.

"Thermal scanning suggests possibly thirty to forty, maybe more." There was quiet whispering.

"These are pictures of the captured men," Orithian said, "Study them." The screen behind him started flashing their pictures. Orithian went to his room and put on combat gear. Large, study boots, the bottoms lined with kevlar to help stop bullets from below. The pans were a black, camouflage patter made to distort the wearers outline in battle. After his shirt went the body armor, level four, made to be very lightweight, while stopping assault rifle rounds. The gloves were nomex/kevlar, bulletproof. If shot in the hand, the glove would not keep it from being shattered, but would keep it in one piece. The tactical vest held multiple pouches for ammo and such. Orithian selected silver 5.56 rounds. Into the pistol pouch went the magnum. Out of his closet came the silenced SC-20K, a very advanced weapon. The 5.56 round is used gave it the same power and range of the M16, while it also had multiple attachments that could be put on. Also, it was nearly silent. The shotgun attachment, which fired 12 gauge shotgun rounds, the sniper attachment, which fired 20 millimeter armor-piercing rounds, and the launcher, which fired smoke grenades, and non-lethal gas grenades. All attachments went into his pack. In a holster on his lower leg went a large knife, with a 10" silver-steel blade. Orithian opened a small box and took out silver grenades. Four went onto his belt. Lastly, he put a nine-millimeter USP handgun in a thigh holster. It was loaded with Ultraviolete emitting rounds. Very powerful, emitting UVC, the harmful radiation that the ozone layer blocked out. He didn't plan to fight vampires, but one should always be prepared.

Orithian went to the garage. Their were five hummers ready to go. Orithian got in Strueker's hummer. "You go to go, sir?" Strueker asked.

"You know it," Orithian said. And not late either. Orithian glanced at his watch. In exactly two minutes the rest of the hummers were loaded. The door opened, and the convoy sped down the road. Orithian looked out the window, and could barely make out in the night sky, three Hueys. The men were silent as they proceeded. Orithian stared out the window. Strueker showed no signs of being worried. _Figures. _Orithian thought. _He's taking this hummer back to base. _The houses he was passing were filled with sleeping people, resting safely, unafraid of the monsters of the night. That was why Orithian did it. To protect.

Orithian's cell phone rang. The other soldiers glanced at him. He fumbled for it, getting it on the third ring. The cool voice of Selene was in his ear.

"Are you ready?" She asked calmly. What did she have to fear? Only a stake through the heart or UV bullet could kill her.

"Go." Orithian said simply. She hung up. The hummers turned the corner, and there was the target building. Orithian took the safety off his SC-20K and set it to semi-auto. The hummer pulled to a perfect stop in front of the building.

"Adios." Strueker said. Godspeed, it meant literally. Orithian nodded, and opened the car door. The other men, Luis and Steel, jumped out as well. About 12 other men rushed over. Orithian could hear the distant ring gunfire coming from the roof, as the Hueys flew off. Luis ran forward to the locked doors and slapped a explosive to the lock. The men flattened to the walls of the building. "Boom." Luis said softly in his Spanish accent, and pressed a little red button. The doors exploded inwards. The men moved in.

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The ending will involve Viktor, yes, but I think they flopped with the vampires. Viktor was an angry old guy. In this story, he will be what nightmares and legends are made of.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	10. A tragic reunion

Chapter 10. My, we've gone so far together. Anyway, When I said Adios meant Godspeed, I was using the literal interpretation. In common usage, it does mean, "bye." But the Spanish 'Dios' is the word for deity, for God, so it does, in a matter of speaking, mean Godspeed. Sort of. I think…Well, I sent this story to my brother, Nathaniel, at his college email account a state away. He liked it.

Syndic-Machiavelli: I'm glad you like ths story! Yes, I'm trying to make it very realistic with equipment and such. Comes from reading to many Tom Clancy books, and playing airsoft. Yes, Viktor will be a mighty foe in my story. I've never heard of swords killing vampires. It will take something with a bit more of a kick to kill Viktor.

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The door lock was gone. Orithian kicked it open, and moved along the right wall. The men poured in. A lycan, far down the hallway! It leapt, fully transformed. _Phut phut phut _went a silenced weapon. It was dead. Orithian paused outside a shut door. Someone was inside. He signaled to Luis, who tossed him a flash grenade. Orithian opened the door and tossed it inside, then shut the door. It went off. Orithian kicked the door open, and moved along the left wall to the corner, then went to the back of the room, left corner, three other of his men moving in tandem. Five non-transformed lycans. "Freeze!" Orithian ordered. "Drop your weapons and get your hands in the air!" The lycans did the exact opposite. The raised sub-machine guns, and one got a shot off. The guardians cut them down in a split second. Several gave off bursts of gunfire as they died. Orithian dashed back to the hallway, moving to a meeting room. A soldier grabbed his arm.

"What?" Orithian asked. The soldier tapped Orithian's chest.

"You took a shot," He said. Orithian took two fingers and popped a bullet out of the armor. It was glowing.

"UV rounds," Orithian said. "They are ready for vampires." The soldier batted it out of his hand.

"I heard those things can give you cancer," He said. There was gunfire suddenly. Orithian ducked as a bullet shot past his head. The group have separated into several teams, clearing rooms, searching very quickly for the hostages. As soon as they rooms were checked, the guardians would meet up with death dealer forces.

Orithian moved down one hallway. A lcyan leapt out of a small room and kneed him in the chest, then knocked his gun away. The blow would have crushed most humans' rib cages and punctured thier lungs. Orithian withdrew his knife, and used that. Most people do not realize how deadly knifes are. For a human, one wound from a knife meant they had about 15 seconds before passing out from blood loss. A very serious knife wound meant you had 3 seconds to live.

Orithian stabbed the lycan in the chest, then kicked him, before retrieving his SC-20K off the floor. Noting the G36 the lycan had, Orithian removed the magazine. It was standard NATO rounds, which Orithian's gun used as well. After taking the knife back, he check the room. No prisoners. He checked on the radio. "Team one, have you recovered any hostages?" There was the sound of gunfire.

"Negative on that, Team two, no hostages found. Only six lycans encountered, and they put up a huge fight. Almost at ground level, eta three minutes," The man said. Orithian focused, feeling for anyone around him, listening, smelling. He grabbed a cheap hotel bed and heaved it on the side. Below was a trapdoor. Bingo.

"Team one, this is 2-5. I'm going down on my own, found a passage," Orithian said, making sure his knife was secure in the holster.

"No way, Orithian, not on your own!" Eversman shouted over the radio. Orithian jumpd down lightly, landing in a tunnel. He didn't move for nearly twenty seconds, letting his eyes fully adjust to the darkness. The passage ran two ways. Orithain went right. Fifty or so steps later, the passage opened up. He could here noise. There were dim lights. Orithian peeked around the corner. There was a three lycans. In the corner was a human bound by his arms, hanging off the ground. Orithian recognized the young man, a former cop named Chris. Three lycans. Orithian made sure the safety was off the magnum. He leaned out, and fired with his rifle, using the sniper attachment on the bottom of the weapon. One lycan literally crashed into the wall from the 20 mm shot. Another rolled for cover, while the third tried to aim and return fire. Orithian gave a three shot burst, killing the second lycan. The hostage perked up. He was fairly sure he knew what was going on. Orithian cautiously walked forward, clinging to the wall, his assault rifle at the ready. The prisoner, Chris Redfield, recognized Orithian as being from Parabellum. Orithian stepped around the corner, knowing the lycan was there. The rifle was suddenly ripped from his hands and was thrown away. Orithian twisted his torso left, kicked the lycan, and knocked the Russian AK-47 away. He drew his magnum. The lycan also went for a sidearm. The drew at the exact same time, placing their pistols in each other's faces. The tall lcyan smiled, holding a silenced Socom pistol in his hand, the advanced handgun a sharp contradiction to the old AK-47. Orithian looked at him for a second, about to shoot. He froze. He suddenly felt weak, sick. He took a step back, stumbling over a chuck of concrete, tripping a falling into a puddle of filthy water.

"No.." He said, having the presence of mind to keep the pistol aimed at the enemy, even from the ground. "You're dead."

"Only some would say that," The lcyan said with a smirk, his face all to familiar. "But I feel more alive than ever, actually."

"No!" Orithian shouted, sobbing, as if the course of time itself would change because of his despair. "Noo!"

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Now I leave you at a cliffhanger. Who is the lycan? Anyone care to guess? Why didn't Orithian shoot him and save Chris, the former RCPD officer?


	11. Last hostage

Hi everyone, and thanks for all the sudden reviews. Almost done with the story, though. It's almost a little sad.

Alliriyan, yes, I have terrible grammer and spelling. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Actually, yes," Orithian's older brother replied. "I am a lycan. And I must say I'm impressed. I never imagined you taking any job more dangerous than working at a law firm." Nathaniel glanced sadly at the two dead lycans. "And it seems you've become extremely proficient at what you do. I supposed you're here for the hostages eh?" Orithian stood back up, keeping his gun trained on his older brother. _No, he's a lycan,_ he coolly reminded himself. He picked up his fallen SC-20K.

"That's right." He holstered the magnum, shouldered the assault rifle, and took out his knife. "So if I could just take Chris here back with me, I can go." Nathaniel sighed, then glanced at the knife.

"I guess that is made off silver as well?" He nodded at the blade.

"Silver mixed with steel, strengthened by small amounts of titanium, yes." He reached for the ropes that kept Chris bound. A sinister voice spoke behind him.

"It seems we now have two hostages instead of one, don't we? Oh, and don't move at all." Orithian sliced through the remains of the rope and holstered his knife, keeping a hand next to the rope. With some luck they thought Chris was still tied. He looked at Chris. The man was looking directly behind Orithian, staying calm. Orithian focused on the reflection in Chris's pupils, seeing detail. A lycan was in the doorway, holding what appeared to be a mp5k, a nine millimeter submachine gun that was incredibly easy to use in close quarters do to the small size. Chris glanced at Orithian, clearly asking if he had seen enough. Orithian flicked his eyes towards the end of the passageway he had come down, telling him which way to run. He glanced at Chris's neck. No bite marks.

Then he spoke. "You know, I thought you were dead. Car went into a lake in Wisconsin, while you were on that crazy film project."

"Trying to capture a werewolf on film," Nathaniel said, remembering it...

"That's right," the other lycan said. "And when he swam to shore, he succeeded, except for the film part. I made him a lycan that very night. How ironic, that years later, I would fight that very lcyan's human brother in an alleyway in Berlin." Orithian remember that very well. But he had been sure he had gotten both. _Not sure enough. _He thought ruefully. The monster had gotten his brother. Orithian glanced at Chris, giving him a command silently. Orithian removed his hand, and Chris separated his freed arms, snatching the magnum at from Orithian's tactical vest, just as he was told. Chris bolted down the passageway. Orithian expected to be shot. He was not. The lcyan glanced at Nathaniel.

"Go take the other human out of commission. NOW!" The lycan said. Nathaniel glanced sadly at Orithian, and ran down the passageway.

"Chris! One's after you!" Orithian shouted. His brother vanished from sight. Orithian didn't move for a few seconds. Gunfire echoed down the hallway. Orithian desperately wished he had managed to throw Chris a spare magazine.

The lycan with the mp5k took a few steps closer. Orithian got ready to spring. The lycan grabbed Orithian's rifle. To his astonishment, the lycan broke both his and Orithian's guns, and tossed them away.

"You have no idea how much I have looked forward to this day," the lycan said. "What luck for me that you were too sloppy to put a round in my head. But no, you staggered off, totaling forgetting about me. Foolish human." The lycan smiled, revealing large fangs. "Let's have a little match, just you and me. This will me your last fun, before you die." He took out the large knife hanging from the holster that hung, hilt-down, over his the left portion of his chest.

Orithian took out his knife, carefully gauging how fast the lycan probably was. He pushed away the despair over the fact his own brother was a murderous monster, a lycan. And Orithian was almost a werewolf/vampire slayer. _Sort of like Billy Sunday's son committing suicide_. He laughed aloud at the irony.

"You know," Orithian said, getting a good grip on his blade. "You did do one thing for me, lycan."

"The name's Krauser. The last name you will ever hear." He growled sinisterly.

Orithian smiled blandly. "You took away my fear of death." He lunged forward like a snake, the tip of his knife almost cutting Krauser's throat open. Krauser jerked backwards, then slashed at Orithian's belly. The knives met, throwing sparks from the force of the collision. Kruaser threw a punch at Orithian, distracting his attention for a split second, then he kicked an old supply drum at him. Orithian saw it coming and blocked it easily. Orithian tried stabbing at Kruaser from his right, only to have the lycan grabbed the arm. Orithian grabbed his opponent's knife hand, both fighters trying to drive their blades home. Orithian strained, barely holding off the incoming weapon. To late he realized what happened. The lycan kicked at his foot, sweeping it off balance, knocking Orithian to the floor. The lycan's knife came down. Orithian felt a pain in his neck, and rolled away. He put a hand to his neck. He felt amounts of warm liquid running across his hand, down his arm. With horror, he knew were he was hurt. The lycan had sliced his jugular open. A death sentence. Orithian fell to his knees, trying to squeeze the arteries shut, fighting off the dizziness that was sweeping over him. The lycan smirked, blood on his knife. He took a few steps towards Orithian, holding his knife. "My, how the tables have turned," he said triumphantly. Fury roared to life inside Orithian. He could not let this lycan win! He must win! For Chris! For Michael Corvin! For Garrison! The lycan thrust his knife directly at Orithian's face. He met it, the notched in his knife stopping the oncoming blade. The lycan stopped for a second and stared. Orithian cried out, and swung his knife against the lycan's belly, his neck, and his back. The lycan fell forward, were the once kneeling Orithian had been. The lycan looked up at the dark ceiling of the old room, and howled.

Orithian didn't waste anytime. He rammed his blade into the monstrosities head, the silver killing it. Kruaser fell to the floor. Orithian bent over slowly, ripping the knife from the dead lycan's head. He picked up the knife of his fallen foe, and turned towards the exit, the hall. _Medic! _He cried out inwardly. What he saw stopped him.

"There is no way my luck is _that_ bad," he said. In the passageway stood three fully transformed lycans. All three, enormous killing machines, eight feet tall. Orithian, with a flourish, raised both large knives in a fighting stance. The lycans growled, and charged. Orithian poised himself.

There was a sudden brraatttt, and the lycans fell, within all shot dead within a span of one second or so. Orithian glanced up. Selene stood there with two automatic pistols, smoke coming from the barrels. Orithian tottered backwards. Selene rushed forward, and steadied him slightly.

"What happened to you?" She asked critically, looking at his cut neck. Of course, she would be no help. No vampires were trained in first aid. Orithian looked at his pure red arm.

"Got in a fight. Old… score to settle," he said, standing, uncertain. "Did… we get the hostages?" Selene looked at him with some concern.

"Last I heard, your team got all back but Michael Corvin." She abruptly changed topics. "You should be dead! A cut jugular should kill any human within twenty seconds at very tops." Orithian looked around.

"Lost my weapon," he said. "Lycan broke my assault rifle…" Selene shook her head, then handed him a pistol. It was a Walther p99a.

"Silver nitrate. One shot should kill." She said. "Are you coming with me?" Orithian forced himself to walk.

"Sure," he said. "Lets go."

Orithian followed Selene. She stalked down tiny passageways, staying away from the main firefight. Orithian touched his neck gingerly. The flesh was regenerating itself. The artery was sealed. He could feel his pulse. He started feeling like he was waking up, the dimness wearing off.

Selene froze. Orithian did likewise. She rounded the corner, an fired her handgun. There was a sound of a body hitting the floor. A few more shots. Orithian moved forward, regaining the correct stance. Selene was standing on a dead lycan, firing a few more shots into it, hissing… in joy?

"Orithian! Selene!" Michael said. He was bound to some sort of experimenting table, which was vertical. Orithian yanked at a cord. It did not good. Michael caught sight of Orithian's blood-red clothes, now soaked very dark black. "What happened to you!" Michael asked. Orithian shot at one chain. It gave way.

"Roadrage," he said. Michael have him a strange look. Selene fired at the other chain. Michael rubbed his wrists and arm. Then Orithian noticed. "Dang."

"What?" Selene said, then saw it. Clearly, at the base of his neck, was a bite scar. Lycan bite scar. Orithian glanced at Selene. The hand with the gun strayed upwards, in Michael's direction. Orithian took a small syringe out of a pouch in his vest.

"It's okay." He said quickly. Couldn't have a death dealer killing a marked hostage. "We have the cure for lycan bites. We just have to get him to the medics." He injected the substance near as he dared into Michael. Michael cringed.

"What's that?" He asked.

"Anti-viral," Orithian said. "Extends the amount of time by nearly 12 hours that we have to cure you from becoming a lycan." Selene glanced at Orithian, unsure.

"Lead the way out." Orithian said, making each word a command. She glanced at Michael, and started jogging down a passage.

"This way," she called. Michael took of following.

"Go, I'll catch up," Orithian shouted. They took off down the pasageway. Orithian glance around. On a small table. Needles. He looked closer. Blood was in a syringe. Silver bullets, the ends dented in. Some surgical instruments. Nothing of importance. He took off down the dark passage, following the other two.

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I hope you liked the chapter!


	12. Brawling

Here is chapter 12. Before you start reading the chapter, I thought I would share something funny that happened. My dad was setting up a weight training set he bought for $50, one of those three station workout things, benchpresse and push the bars to lift the weights. My dad hooked up about 8-11 of those large weights, and couldn't figure out why the three more on the bottom would not lift. He wanted to push the weights up, so I could check to see if they were aligned right. He strained, and couldn't do it. I came over.

"Here, let me do it," I said. He glanced at me.

"Sure," he said sarcastically. "You do it." I started pushing, straining. He continued expressing disbelief.

"You lift that thing and I'll give you five dollars. Try it, Hercules. Next you'll say your name is Napoleon and you've been in wars!" I saw an opportunity.

"You'll give me $5 if I can lift it? $10!" I said.

"A hundred! Heck, I'll buy you your own house!" He said, looking totally serious at the notion it was impossible.

"Okay!" I said. I sat back, wrapped my legs near the base of the seat for support, and _pushed _with my arms as hard as I could. I felt like Spider-Man stopping that train in the sequel. I pushed, and the weights lifted about six inches. I let go, and they slammed back down with a **clang**! I smiled.

"Wow. Sure, you get five dollars!" My dad said, looking amazed.

"You said a hundred!" I accused. My mom came over and sat down. I explained.

"No way, with all these bills, are you getting a hundred!" She said.

Oh well. I'm working on getting it. The morale of this story is the point I hope I made: get stuff in writing!

Oh, and whoever that was that said Orithian would have died if his jugular had been cut: That's the point. He's not a normal human. He would have died in less than a minute if that was the case. But he is part vampire and part lycan, almost a hybrid.

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Orithian ran forward, holding the handgun Selene had gave him. He was fairly sure of the path they had taken. Why hadn't he gone with them! He stumbled, and was only saved from tripping by reflexes. He was exhausted from the loss of blood. There was a faint, _Bang bang bang bang! _Orithian tensed. Gunshots. Up ahead. Not Selene's walther p99's, she was using those in bursts, not semi auto. He ran forward, trying to be silent. It took him nearly eight, maybe fifteen seconds to catch up. Orithian stopped for a moment to get a breath, then went on. He rounded the corner. He saw them, capturing the whole scene in mere seconds. Michael was on the ground, four holes in his shirt, colored… silver. Selene was bent over him. A dead body was on the ground. A …. vampire! To pale to be a lycan! A vampire was standing over Selene. Orithian didn't move for a moment. The vampire raised his small pistol. Orithian took a few steps forward, noting that the corpse on the side was alive, grabbed rusted metal rod off the ground, drew back his arm, and hurled it.

The vampire suddenly had a long metal rod in his chest. Orithian shot him a few times, knowing full well silver wouldn't kill him. The vampire stumbled backwards, and fell down a stairwell. Orithian ran forward, glancing at Michael. The blood vessels in his neck, and face, were silver gray. Orithian leaned over the stairwell. The body of the vampire was at the bottom.

"What was that?" Selene asked.

Orithian smiled. "Vampires weakness. Stake through the heart." He glanced down. The body got up! It stumbled away! Orithian shot a few more times in rage.

"Don't you mean, wooden stake through the heart?" Selene asked mildly. Orithian looked at Michael. He was gasping for air. Orithian bowed his head.

"Can you do anything for him?" Selene asked, sounding tearful. Orithian wondered why. He glanced at Michael.

"All one can do now…. is say goodbye." Orithain said. He knew there was no way to cure him. Not in some sewer system.

"Bite him!" A raspy voice said, behind Orithian. Orithian jerked around, raising his weapon. He recognized Lucian. The leader of the lycans.

"Half vampire… half lycan, but stronger than both!" Lucian gasped. Selene looked uncertain. She glanced at Michael. She opened her mouth, and leaned towards the dying Michael neck. Orithian could guess what was coming. He turned away.

"If that isn't the most grotesque thing in the world that you can possibly witness…" He looked at the lycan. This lycan probably planned the attack on Parabellum, causing deathes. Orithian raised the pistol, and drew the hammer back, not happy to notice out of the corner of his eye the fact that Selene was still biting Micahel.

The lycan looked at Orithian. He said in a gasping voice, "Kill me, brother, but my work it done." Orithian looked at him, his hand poised. He looked at the lycan's eyes. They were tired, centuries old. Orithian felt sympathy for this lycan. He heard a rustle of noise to is right. His head snapped towards the sound.

It was the vmapire elder, Viktor, with a sword! And two death dealer bodyguards, with small mp5's. Viktor did not hesitate as he strode forward, knocked Selene off Michael, with ease, then picked up Michael. He heald him by the throat for a moment, then turned around, and, as if it was the easiest thing in the world, threw Michael though the concrete wall behind him. Orithian took a few steps back. Viktor ignored him. He turned to Selene.

"Were's Kraven!" He demaned. Orithian volunteered an answer.

"I think he's down there somewhere," he said, pointing in the general direction that the vampire fled.

"It wasn't the lycans…" Selene said quietly, accusingly. "It was you!" Viktor looked at her, then at his bodyguards.

"Leave us!" He snapped. He looked at Selene.

"How could you bear my trust?" Selene asked, desperately. "After you killed my family?" Orithian listed closely.

"Was it not a fair trade?" Viktor asked. "For immortality?" Selene looked like she couldn't believe it.

"And your daughter? Who you ordered to be killed?" Selene asked, looking like she was crying.

Vitkor glanced at the lycan on the ground, Lucian, who had wisely decided to play dead. He snatched the small pendant of his neck, then looked at Selene.

"I loved my daughter!" He said, holding his arms out. "But the abomination that was growing in her womb was a betrayal of both me, and the coven!"

"Your own daughter!" Selelene whispered.

"I did what was necessary to protect the coven! As I am forced to do, yet again!" Viktor said, seizing the sword, and turning to walk through the hole in the wall he had conveniently created. Viktor froze, looking.

Orithian stepped forward. "I'm afraid I cannot let you kill Michael." He said the words calmly. Viktor turned around.

"Oh? And how do you plan to stop me?" Viktor said. Orithian moved quickly, flinging his knife forward. It sank into Viktor's hand that was holding the sword, pinning it to the wall. Orithian smiled. Viktor dropped the sword, ripped the knife out of his hand, and broke it in half, then tossed it away. Orithian glanced at the shards.

"Oh well." With those words, Orithian launched himself forward at the vampire, kicking him in the chest. Taken by surprise, Viktor fell back through the hole, splashing into a puddle of water. Orithian jumped down lightly. Vitkor took a few steps forward, and swung a punch. Orithian dodged it, slugging the old vampire, and knocking him backwards. From behind him, he thought he heard some blows. Viktor merely seized Orithian's arm, and swung him around in a full 360 degree circle, then used the momentum of the swing to smash him into the ground. Orithian tried to crawl away, feeling broken ribs, every breath painful. It wasn't so easy. Viktor walked over, placed him in a headlock, and said quietly,

"Time to die!" He tightened his grip. Orithian knew what he was doing. He was going to brake his neck. Orithian tried striking at him, Viktor's face, his chest, no use.

There was a noise. Orithian turned, just as the blade of Viktor's sword sliced just past his ear. Suddenly the grip fell away. Orithian rolled away, and stood, backing off. Selene was about ten feet to his left, holding a sword. Viktor stared at her for a moment. He moved his arms, and two long blades came out of his sleeves. Selene raised the sword. There was blood on the end.

A small red line appeared on Viktor's face. It spread. Then half of his head fell off, onto the ground. His body collapsed along with it.

Orithian stumbled backwards when the head fell off. He looked around. There was Michael…. Looking very strange. Selene was just staring at the body of the dead Viktor.

Suddenly Viktor stood up! He bent over, picked up the half of his head, and put it back on. The line disappeared as the flesh regenerated. He looked at Selene, fury spreading across his face.

"Very well," Viktor said. He looked at Orithian. "You will both now die." Viktor took his coat off, and tossed it away. Orithian felt for the handgun that he had loaded with tracer rounds. The feel of the grip reassured him…. Somewhat.

Viktor looked up, spread his arms, a looked of concentration on his face. Orithian realized with absolute horror what he was doing. Wings burst out of Viktor's back. His height suddenly went front six feet to thirteen. His arms were like telephone poles. He was thicker around the chest than most of the wardrobes Orithian has seen. Heck, some cars he had seen. _If only I had a tank, _Orithian thought sadly. But then, Viktor now looked big enough to smash a tank.

The enormous vampire glanced around him, then chuckled, seeing the dismay, the despair, on Orithian and Selene's faces. Orithian raised his USP pistol loaded with tracer rounds.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Viktor reeled for a second, then doubled over. The room was quiet as a tome for a moment. _Plop plop plop._ The glowing rounds fell out of Viktot, splashing in the water. He looked at Orithian. _Click_ went his empty gun. Viktor took a step forward, Orithian trying to back up, his back to the wall, unfortunately.

He grabbed Orithian by the throat, and lifted him into the air. Orithian grabbed at the massive hand, trying hopelessly to pry the fingers away. He couldn't see where Selene was.

There was a growl behind Viktor. The giant jusy threw Orithian back through the holes he had created earlier. He turned. There was Michael. But he was now twelve feet tall, and equally huge.

Orithian didn't watch for more than a second, but he could certainly hear the massive bodies smashing each other, the concrete breaking. He ran over to the lycan that had played dead. Lucian. Orithian heaved Lucian up against the wall.

"How do I kill Viktor?" Orithian shouted into his face. The lycan gave him an insolent look.

"Don't you think hundreds of lycans have tried?" He spat. "We've staked him through the heart, shot him, stabbed him, tried torching him, sprayed him with Holy water! No one knows how to kill Viktor! If he was so easy to dispatch, his own servants would have done him in, centuries ago!" Orithian dropped him back on the ground. The walls shook. Orithian glanced back at the brawl. Michael was doing fine, but neither seemed to be doing any real damage to anything, but the wall's supports.

Then he remembered something he had learned in training. _It was believed that only a powerful, fully transformed lycan could kill a vampire elder. _The answer came to him quickly.

"Nathaniel!" Where was his brother?

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Okay, hope you liked it. Next chapter soon.


	13. Finished

Hey, everyone. Here's chapter…. Thirteen. Just about at the end. On afterthought, I sorta wish I had planned this story out, made a detailed outline before I wrote it… but nope. It's been nearly 100 improvising, writing this story. I'm a little like the hitman, Vincent, in the film Collateral, making everything by improvising. Heck, I've only watched the film UnderWorld twice, though. So it figures the story would be a work of improvisation. Ah, more of a foreword than you expect on most days from some Fanfic author, eh? Well, on with the show.

Oh, and to whoever said Orithian's opinion of Selene was somewhat hypocritical…. It wasn't. Take my word, it was not.

Oh, and sorry for not updating sooner. I was extremely sick for a week.

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Orithian glanced around. He needed a lycan to fight Viktor, and the three-quarters-dead werewolf on the ground was not going to be much help. The floor shook like an earthquake had struck. Orithian took a peek at the brawl. The room was efficiently being deconstructed. _What will police say happened here, should they come? _He wondered idly. 'Fighters obviously combated using dynamite charges.' Back to business on hand. He needed a lycan.

The answer came to him. He grabbed his walkie-talkie. There was a small amount of talk on the channel. Orithian pushed several buttons, and the radio started scanning all frequencies.

"They're pushing us back! The vampires are surrounding us, we need backup!" A voice screamed frantically over the radio. It wasn't the channel Orithian's team was using.

"Nathaniel? Are you there?" He asked into the radio. There was slight silence. "Nathaniel, I know you have a radio. Answer the call, for pete's sake!" There was a reply.

"Get off the channel, Andrew! I let your buddy Chris go free, what more do you want?!" Nathaniel demanded tersely.

"Vampire decided to kill a hostage, um, Michael Corvin. I need a little help dealing with Viktor." He asked, hoping that fact that the vampire elder was reckoned to be invincible would not deter Nathaniel.

"Oh, great! Why don't you just ask me to deal with Darth Maul!? Or maybe Dracula?! I'd probably have more luck fighting him!" He shouted.

"Well, you'll have a hybrid helping you, and I shot him 15 times with uv rounds," Orithian told him.

"Well, in that case," Nathaniel said. "I'll give it a whack." The second line sounded different. He turned. There was Nathaniel, who had just slid down a ladder.

Nathaniel glanced at the hole in the wall, and looked through. Michael and Viktor were not speeding to kill each other quickly. Nathaniel tossed his ak-47 down on the ground, and took his shirt off, putting it on his gun. Orithian took a few quick steps back. The change was rather groteqsue: the huhman flesh fell away in patches, revealing a wolf-like creature. He snarled and lunged forward.

Viktor was taken off guard. The lycan plowed into him, taking him through a wall. Orithian couldn't see were Selene was. Viktor grabbed Nathaniel by one arm, turned, and hurled him away, before flapping his huge wings and flying upwards, attempting to get away. Nathaniel leaped up, and latched onto his ankle, yanking him back down. He grabbed Viktor with a paw the size of a small desk, and slashed his throat. Viktor grappled desperately, blood pouring from his neck.

Orithian watched with horror and fascination as Viktor died. The flesh on the vampire turned to dust in mere seconds, his skeleton falling apart. Orithian knew what was happening. He was aging in his last moments as if he was human. Three seconds later almost nothing was left. Nathaniel cast the corpse away. The fur fell off in patches, as he stumbled towards his coat, completely exhausted, fully human. At least for a minute.

"Show up after years, and demand I whack an old guy for you…" Nathaniel muttered, sitting down, holding his head in his hands. Orithian raised his eyebrows and smirked. Then he looked at Michael. Selene walked over, staring at the dead vampire elder. The she looked at Nathaniel, fingering her pistol. Then she merely tossed it away, it landing in a puddle.

"He's dead…. My family is finally avenged," she said softly. Michael Corvin tottered over. Orithian caught his arm and steadied him. "Easy, Michael."

Selene stared at the body. "What does one life mean in the grand scheme of things?" She asked, no one in particular. Orithian, startled, glanced at Nathaniel. All he did was point at Selene, then make the 'insane' gesture next to his head.

"I'll tell you the answer," Orithian said, looking at Selene. She looked at him. He continued. "As much as that person makes their life mean."

All the heads snapped back towards the tunnel. Gunfire echoed off the walls. The battle was nearing.

"Quick," Orithian said. He looked at Selene and Michael. "You two, get out of here. Fast. Selene, make sure Michael stays safe." Selene looked at him as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Then the expression on her face changed, and she glanced at the body of Viktor.

"Fine, oh wise and mighty guardian." She said, with more than a hint of sarcasm. "I'll keep him safe." She glanced at Michael. "Com'on, doctor!" She turned and started running towards a ladder going up. Michael followed. Orithian realized he had forgotten something.

"Wait!" He called out. They stopped, and he ran over, taking something out of his pocket. They were two rings, that looked like they were made from tiny strands of silver and strands of gold weaved together intricately. He handed on to both of them. "If you wear these, whenever you encounter a Parabellum agent or spy or worker, they will provide you with anything you need. Money, weapons, clothes, vehicles. These rings mark you as an ally of Parabellum." Selene glanced at the ring, then slipped it on. Michael did as well.

"Thank you for all that you did for me." Michael said quietly. "I'll remember you."

Selene merely said, "Appreciate it. Now lets go!" She started climbing the ladder with good speed. Michael followed close behind. Orithian felt slightly sad at seeing them go. _Oh well, _he thought.

"Lets get going as well, Nath-" he turned, and saw the empty space his brother had occupied a moment earlier. His eye's caught something. A scrap of paper. He picked it up.

_ It was good to see you again._

_Did you have to kill Kruaser? _

_See you around,_

_N._

Orithian carefully folded the piece of paper and placed it in a vest pouch. He heard foosteps, and threw himself behind some cover. Three men entered the room, dressed similar to himself. Guardians!

"Ruiz! Johnson! Harrision!" Orithian said, greeting the soldiers. "Glad to see you!" They looked at him, and his red clothes.

"What happened to you, sir?" Ruiz asked respectfully. Orithian glanced at his red arm, then accepted the uzi Johnson handed him.

"Everyone keeps asking me that." Orithian said. "Are all the hostages recovered?"

"Yes. Alive, all of them. But Michael is nowhere to be found." Harrision replied shortly. "We have to extract ASAP. Also had to find you before we could leave." He nodded towards a route. "That way will get us out of here." They started towards it. Ruiz spotted the remains of Viktor.

"What is that?" He asked tentatively.

"That?" Orithian asked mildly, pointing at the remains. Ruiz nodded. "Oh," Orithian said, cheerily. "It was like that when I got here."

**The End.**

Epilogue

Orithian and the other guardians escaped to the helicopters safely. Hoot lived. So did Kraven, and Lucian. The lycans suffered great casualties at that fight, and the war waged on. Parabellum didn't go on any more missions with the vampires, who became suspicious at the fact that the lycans suddenly seemed to be using the same equipment as Parabellum warriors.

Selene and Michael disappeared into the UnderWorld. The vampires eventually gave up trying to find Selene, who they blamed for Viktor's death. Parabellum mainted that Michael's corspe had been recovered and cremated.

And Nathaniel also escaped.

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Many thanks to the reviewers who kept me writing this story. Such as Cass of the East, Zevampyre, Shadowshaveoffened, and, last but not least, London Vixen, for who I spared Kraven.

If I forgot to mention you, and you reviewed a lot, just be glad I wrote the story.

Oh, and what should I write next? I was thinking a Resident Evil 4 fanfic, or maybe X-Men.

Oh, and I hoped you liked story.

Goodbye,

Andrew Fisher15


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